


Invidia

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, F/M, M/M, Onesided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it makes Roy absolutely <i>nauseated</i>, how utterly happy Ed is with his new life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invidia

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr was talking about how Ed is going to be an awesome Dad, like taking things to Hughes-level embarrassing Dadliness, and it'll annoy the shit out of Roy. And I thought that I wanted to write that, except I forgot that I am a slave to my OTP and have no free will of my own. So instead of adorably proud Papa!Ed and fondly exasperated Roy, you get pining and unrequited love and Ed's filthy fucking mouth (which is also, coincidentally, responsible for the rating).

Roy hears the greetings that spring up from the outer office and braces himself. The door swings open with a familiar crash and Roy straightens in his chair, eyeing Fullmetal—still and always Fullmetal in Roy’s thoughts, because alchemy was never something he _did_ so much as it was a thing that he _lived_ , and _breathed_ , and _was_. Alchemy is about truth and knowledge, and Fullmetal’s passion for those things transcends the actual performance of alchemy.

And it is passion that’s burning in Fullmetal’s eyes, as he strides into the office and plunks himself down forcefully into the chair across from Roy.

“Ah, Edward,” Roy says, because he keeps _Fullmetal_ for himself, locked away carefully in his mind. _Fullmetal_ has always been Roy’s domain, even as—especially as— _Edward_ did nothing but evade him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Fullmetal’s lips curl into an almost feral-looking smile and for a moment, with his flashing eyes and bared teeth, he looks quite mad. He reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a wallet overflowing with tiny squares of paper. For a moment Roy can’t _breathe_ , the gesture is so familiar, and some part of him is laughing even as the rest of him is _wailing_.

His hands clench reflexively and he arranges his face into something he hopes approximates haughty amusement. 

“Shut up and look bastard,” Fullmetal says, flipping open the wallet, and Roy obediently bends his head to study the photos. Fullmetal draws out picture after picture, carelessly spreading them out over Roy’s paperwork.

“This is Sam learning to read, he’s fucking incredible, isn’t he? Just so adorable I think I might actually fucking puke. And Trisha, beautiful like her Mom, right? She’s going to be an alchemist, I can tell, she’s brilliant. I have no clue how it’s even possible, but these children are goddamn perfect and I am going to tell _everyone_.” And the look on Fullmetal’s face threatens enough violence for anyone who disagrees that Roy just nods. They _are_ beautiful: smiling brightly, well cared-for and obviously well-loved. Winry Elric is radiant in the few pictures that include her, attractive and grinning happily at the camera. Love and contentment make her eyes shine, radiating from the image to lodge like shards of ice in Roy’s breast. He looks back up from the photos.

“Very nice, Edward. Is this really what brings you all the way out to Central, though?”

“Wouldn’t it be _enough_ , bastard? You should be thanking me for the fucking privilege of looking at my glorious fucking children, just so you know. And if you really need more of a reason, except why the fuck would you, I came out here because apparently the Xingese postal service will ship from middle of butt-fuck nowhere Xing to Central for faster and cheaper than the Amestrian postal service will ship from Central to Resembool and back. So I came to pick up some stuff Al mailed us—he’s learned loads apparently, which doesn’t surprise me because _c’mon_ , and he’s sending along some beginner alkahestry books for the kids, they’re going to pick it up in no time, rate they’re fucking going with alchemy, it’s insane. Point is, they’re probably going to need more soon, so when you finally get your ass in gear becoming leader of the free fucking world or whatever the hell it is you’re trying to do, maybe you should work on some better fucking federal services or some shit. Speaking of, you probably already know, you nosy asshole, but—”

And Fullmetal is off, jabbering to Roy about every single thing he thinks is wrong with the country while somehow simultaneously managing to impart a great deal of information about their mutual acquaintances and also injecting the monologue with as many anecdotes about his children as possible. Roy leans back in his chair and fakes a smirk in the face of Fullmetal’s utterly characteristic pride. It is fierce and determined, and Roy knows Fullmetal well enough to know that it doesn’t come from a love of self in the way that parental pride often does. Rather, it comes from a love for those children, in and of themselves, an utter devotion to the human beings that they have only barely begun to become. 

It is fitting, Roy thinks, that Fullmetal’s love is at once so simple and so impossible to obtain.

Roy knows, too (though the knowledge burns in his mind like salt on an open wound), that some of that pride is attributed to their mother, and Roy hates her for it. He feels it seeping into his gut like poison, sliding around his organs and leeching into his bloodstream, so potent he can feel it unfurling in his veins and leaving him utterly, hopelessly tainted. He can’t help but be reminded of a tiny, ugly creature that had clawed its life out of its own chest and crushed it, driven by the despair that it would never, ever acquire what it truly wanted. And Roy knows, _he knows_ that his hatred only makes him smaller and uglier too, but it’s already rooted, festering, in his chest, and there it lives.

He wonders, sometimes, if he were to claw it out of his chest, whether it would kill him or liberate him.

He wonders, now, as Fullmetal’s voice fills Roy’s ears and his image fills Roy’s sight and his presence fills Roy’s heart, if there’s a difference.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are much appreciated. :-)


End file.
